


Licentious Logic

by Trista_zevkia



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mind Rape, Not Compliant w Into Darkness, Pon Farr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 17:44:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While escorting Vulcans to their new home, Jim discovers a few things. Including the Vulcan word for a depository of man-seed, which he'd find funny if it wasn't for the fact the Vulcans expected Spock to fill that position. Oh, hell no was that happening!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Quick Freeze

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on LJ.

“Message from Starfleet Command, Captain.” Uhura’s voice was professional and clear through the channel, which was a form of progress to Jim. She didn’t officially hate him anymore!

“Thank you, Lieutenant, please send it here.” McCoy rolled his eyes, but got the hint and stood. He’d already sat around and talked to Jim a half hour after the rest of the officers had left the meeting for their official duties. An almost salute with two fingers and McCoy exited the conference room just as Jim’s screen came to life. “Admiral Pike, what can we do for you?” 

“I’m sending you some new coordinates and names. More Vulcans to bring to the new colony and I called to tell you this so you wouldn’t call me to complain. I know you were hoping for space exploration, not working as a taxi, but be an adult. From what I hear, things are tough all over.” 

“Damn it, Chris!” Jim sighed, but couldn’t get as irritated as he wanted. Chris was right and the Enterprise would go where she was needed. But he couldn’t just give in, so he rolled his eyes and offered an irrelevant comment to make Pike regret his decision. “As much trouble as I’m getting from Spock’s relatives, I should at least get apology sex out of him.” 

Pike’s reaction was real shock, but before Jim could really enjoy it a figure in grey moved into view. Even as the man leaned down to be in the picture, Jim felt his own face surpass Chris’ in panic. 

“Captain Kirk, what is it you seek to get out of my son?” Ambassador Sarek looked perfectly calm, collected and unaware of what Kirk had just said, the perfect Vulcan mask in place. He seemed content to wait out Jim’s answer, even though Jim’s blank mind had to be obvious in the way his jaw was opening and closing without forming words. An embarrassed Chris put his face in his hand, and the motion proved to be enough to jumpstart Jim’s brain, just a little. 

“I’m sorry, ambassador, just a terrible joke. Inappropriate brain droppings of twisted human mind. It’s more of a statement on the traditional problems between in-laws and how they don’t get along with the new spouse or whatever. Not whatever, because if I had any designs on your son I assure you I’d do everything legally and honorable…” Jim could have rattled on a bit more about how a handsome man like Spock would inspire lust in the most calm of individuals, but Chris move his left hand to join the right. Jim knew the gesture and recognized the double facepalm as Chris’s way of begging him to shut up. Jim was suddenly really glad he hadn’t gotten to the point where he told Sarek just how great Spock’s ass looked when he was bent over the scanner. “Right. Bad joke, I didn’t mean anything by it. I apologize.” 

“In that case Captain, allow me to speak. I wished for this opportunity to tell you just how valuable your contribution has been to the establishment of New Vulcan. Most of our warp capable ships were destroyed during the attack and we do not have the resources to conduct this census on our own. The Federation’s assistance has been invaluable.” Here Sarek paused to nod at Pike, who tried to acknowledge the look without turning funny colors. Chris was a funny puce color, but Jim felt all the color drain out of his face when Sarek looked back at him. 

“I trust knowing Spock’s relatives will not change your intentions toward him.” Sarek let Jim’s color refill his face until he was a puce colored as Pike before speaking again. “We must terminate this call, as the conference will resume in twenty seven seconds, and delegates are returning.” 

As the screen went dark, Jim caught Pike’s look. As soon as whatever conference he was at was over, Pike was going to have a long talk with Jim. Or ‘at’ Jim, and Jim would sit there and take it. Stretching as he walked, Jim returned to the bridge. He had a change of coordinates to talk Sulu into inputting. Everybody else was just as desperate for some real adventure, but he doubted a single one of them would have said such a thing. Not even Chekov. 

**J <3S **

Commands given and ship headed to pick up their latest group of passengers, Jim turned to his favorite thing to do when nothing was going on. If he angled his chair just right, he could pretend to be deeply engrossed in the star field and deep thoughts. Instead he was watching Spock’s reflection in the viewscreen. His favorite view, it kept his interest no matter how boring the day. If he hadn’t have been studying it regularly for eight months now, he might not have noticed the way Spock suddenly stiffened. A casual slide out of his chair, strolling around the bridge to stretch his legs, just happened to lead him over to Spock. From the ramrod stiff posture and completely Vulcan face, Jim knew Spock had seen something he didn’t like. Leaning on the console, Jim was totally professional when he spoke. 

“What’s got your interest, Mr. Spock?” 

“I was going over the passenger list, to see if any special accommodations were required.” Some of Spock’s duties as First Officer, but all he seemed willing to say. Which in itself was more telling than Spock was aware of. 

“Did they need anything?” 

“No, sir.” And again, all Spock wanted to say. Jim rearranged himself to look at Spock’s screens. 

“Anybody we know?” Six males from a Vulcan engineering firm, four of them with names beginning with S. Vulcans must be born with a special gene that helped them make up and remember names beginning with S, Jim decided. Spock was looking at Jim with a confused expression. 

“I know one of the individuals, but I do not know if you are acquainted with any of them. In a universe with this many individuals, it would be illogical of me to assume you were acquainted with any particular person.” Jim shrugged and smiled as he answered softly. 

“Yeah, but it told me that you know one of these guys, and don’t like him very much.” 

“Vulcans do not allow likes or dislikes to influence their interactions.” 

“I beg your pardon. Which of these individuals is detrimental to enhancing your calm?” Jim’s irreverence did nothing to enhance Spock’s calm, flying as it did in the face of his logic. It confused Spock, more than he’d ever admit and he’d answer just to make it stop. 

“Stonn is a year younger than I, and we often encountered each other growing up.” Spock’s tone held a finality that ended the discussion. For now, Jim amended to himself. 

“Well, make him comfortable and we’ll dump him on New Vulcan asap.” A pat on the back and Jim went back to his chair. Spock was not particularly talkative about his childhood, but Jim knew it hadn’t been easy. How many Vulcans had ‘engaging in physical altercations’ on their permanent scholastic records that future employers, like Starfleet, might get to read? For now Jim sat in his chair, ogled Spock, and thought of ways to make sure Spock didn’t encounter Stonn. 

**J <3S **

By greeting the Vulcans himself, the captain being a more prestigious person than first officer, Jim made a good start in keeping Stonn away from Spock. He escorted the Vulcans to their quarters, showed them the mess hall, and offered the tour. By calling it the dime tour, Jim successfully confused the Vulcans into not wondering where Spock might be. They declined the tour but demanded an explanation of the phrase. The history lesson on monetary units of Earth covered the walk to their quarters. 

Jim left them with the explanation of ‘an event worth more than a nickel but not quite a quarter’ and went to clean his cabin. Spock had agreed to a chess game and as part of his plan to keep Spock away from Stonn, Jim had decided that tonight the rec room would be too loud. Even if he had to fake a headache, they’d play chess in his room. 

Yeoman Rand cleaned up after him, but Jim wanted to do a bit of reorganizing and sorting. Spock had never been here before and Jim didn’t want the place to offend his Vulcan sensibilities. Vulcans liked things neat and orderly, sparse even. That’s all it was, nothing to do with the thoughts Jim didn’t let himself dwell on. Delicious thoughts of bodies entwined, golden curves mixed with dark angles, thoughts that couldn’t be thought, should an accidental brush with a touch telepath give them away. Jim Kirk was certainly not trying to impress Spock with an orderly room or anything. 

**J <3S **

Spock was late. Spock was never late without a damn good reason, and Spock was late. If Spock wasn’t going to be early, he’d call Jim and tell him. Now, nine minutes after Spock was supposed to arrive at Jim’s quarters, Jim was pacing. He was trying to convince himself it wasn’t a big deal, not much could have happened to Spock, on the ship, and in Federation controlled space. But damned if he wasn’t calling as soon as his chronometer said Spock was ten minutes late. 

When Spock didn’t answer the page after a solid minute, Jim had the computer locate him. Not sure why Spock would be in on the observation lounge, Jim still headed that way, almost jogging. The door opened before him, and even after his eyes adjusted Jim couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A large body was shoving Spock against the viewport, his head buried on the crook of Spock’s neck. Jim froze, unsure what sort of passion he was witnessing. 

Spock helped him decide, by getting a leg free, bending the knee and driving his heel into the small of the other man’s back. Jim ran to his friend, shouting at them even as he wondered just how much stronger full Vulcans were than Spock. The man turned to Kirk and raised a hand to punch him. Jim was just enough of a distraction to allow Spock to step up and nerve pinch the man. He crumpled and Jim managed to stop his forward rush, but he had to see. 

“Computer, lights to full!” Full might have been a mistake, as even Spock blinked a couple of times against the assault of light. The trickle of blood on the right side of Spock’s neck caused a few more blinks, as Jim fought down the desire to kill the unconscious man. Command mode was the only thing that would keep that desire from showing in his voice, so Jim latched onto it. “Report, Mister!” 

“It is of no concern to Starfleet, Captain.” Spock straightened into his normal posture and put his hands behind his back. A mistake, as the motion broke the clot beginning to form on his bite wound. 

“Anything that makes my crew bleed is my concern. From there, I’ll decide if Starfleet needs to hear about it.” 

“Stonn asked me to meet him here, and I saw no reason to refuse. A few moments ago, I discovered he is becoming ill.” 

Jim repeated those two little, insignificant words so slowly that Spock swallowed and shifted his eyes away from directly looking at Jim. “Becoming ill.” 

“He is not sufficiently ill to require the services of Dr. McCoy, nor do I think the doctor could do much for him. Stonn will be cured on New Vulcan.” 

“Will his condition worsen before we get there?” 

“I do not have enough data to make that determination.” 

“And how many of my crewmembers will he attack in the next four and half days?” 

“None, Captain.” 

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe that.” 

“This was a continuation of our childhood grievance and only his physical state caused it to become violent.” Spock might as well have held up a sign that said he was done talking. Normally Jim respected Spock’s reserved nature and need for privacy, but this wasn’t normal. Plus Jim really hated the way Spock seemed to be counting the hairs in his eyebrows, rather than looking him in the eye. 

“What disease? Is it contagious, do I have to quarantine him? What about the other Vulcans on board?” Jim’s words brought Spock down to meet his eyes, Spock accepting he wouldn’t get out of this so easy. 

“Captain, the other Vulcans will watch Stonn if I make them aware of his condition. Under their watch, Stonn will not present further problems.” Spock was holding up his sign again, and Jim sighed. “It would not be diplomatically prudent to force a physical on Stonn when I have told you his condition is not contiguous.” 

“Fine. Get the other Vulcans to fetch him and promise to watch him. Then, diplomatic prudence be hanged, you’re going to sick bay.” Jim had a sign of his own, one that read ‘don’t push me on this mister,’ and he was waving it now. “I might not be able to check on his condition, but I can check yours whenever I want.” 

“Understood, Captain. Perhaps you should request for the others to join us, so I may monitor Stonn’s condition.” Spock’s way of saying he had a better chance of stopping Stonn then Jim did, and Jim could appreciate the logic of that. 

With a nod, Jim went to the nearest comm. unit and called the others. The comm. unit in the corridor, which is why Spock didn’t hear Jim page him. Observation was supposed to be tranquil, a spot to meditate in the human way. Not where captains fought men off their crushes. When all five Vulcans had responded, Jim went in to stand with Spock. They didn’t speak, just waited. Stonn was waking, moaning at their feet when the others arrived. Spock spoke to them in ancient Vulcan, words too quick for the universal translator to catch. One of them stepped forward and spoke to Jim just before he stared demanding answers. 

“Captain, we did not realize Stonn’s condition was at such a stage. We will take responsibility for him.” 

“Very logical of you. Let me know if you need anything.” Jim tried to be diplomatic, but he knew it sounded sarcastic. It might have been just a little sarcastic, but thanks were illogical, so this was him being culturally sensitive. “Mister Spock, I gave you an order.” 

“Understood, Sir.” Spock walked off and almost made it to the door, but Stonn had to have a parting shot. 

“Sayerak.” 

Everyone froze except Spock, who marched out the door as if he hadn’t heard. Jim knew he had, and Jim now had one more thing to ask Spock about. Jim restrained his curiosity and anger, escorting Stonn back to his room. Jim forgot about his restraint, turned and ran to turbolift the second the Vulcans were stowed away. He got in the turbolift, and changed his mind about his destination. Spock was the smartest person Jim had ever met, and the most private. 

Jim raced to his quarters and pulled up the video footage of the observation lounge for the last hour. Putting his copy on a disk meant Spock couldn’t delete it without coming to Jim in person. Locking this disk in his safe, Jim calmly walked down to sickbay. As the doors opened to admit him, Jim heard the dulcet tones of his CMO attempting to reasonably convince someone to let him do a full medical examination. 

“If you don’t hop back up on that table now, I’ll never fix it! You’ll be roboting your way through life with a love bite on your neck and your ear sticking out. I think you’re hiding the truth from me, ‘cause you can’t lie or some such bull, but it don’t matter what Jim said. You won’t be released until I say so, me being the freaking CMO!” 

“Spock, quit lying to Bones! Suck it up and take the physical.” Jim’s words caused Spock to stiffen, but McCoy didn’t look away from his reluctant patient to reply. 

“Maybe I should get you too, Jim, while you’re in such an accommodating mood.” 

“Cute. Spock says one of his Vulcan acquaintances is sick, with something that can only be fixed by his arrival on New Vulcan. Make sure he’s not contagious.” 

“What’s he got that I can’t fix?” McCoy’s irritation was genuine this time, as he was more than competent in his chosen field. Spock settled himself on the biobed with great focus, but didn’t seemed inclined to speak after he was up there. 

“Spock, the Doctor asked you a question.” 

“It is not something I will speak of. It is Stonn who is affected, not I, so it is not my place.” 

McCoy stopped his scanning the throw his hands up in disbelief and irritation. He turned to Jim with an expectant look, but it was clear that Jim’s words were not what he was expecting. 

“Fine. It’s fine. Don’t talk of it, just make sure Bones is satisfied with your condition before leaving sickbay. Disobey me on this, Spock, and I’ll make you explain it to Starfleet High Command. Do you understand me?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Bones, you’ll let me know?” Jim only glanced at Bones, but it was clear they understood each other. Bones would be thorough, and call Jim with answers when it was all over. Together, they’d figure out if Spock was really fine and what this was all about. McCoy nodded, and Jim left. 

Once back in his quarters, Jim pulled out the disk he’d made and slipped into a padd. He forwarded through it until he saw Stonn enter the observation deck to wait for Spock. Stonn stared out at the stars, hands at his side. Spock entered five minutes later, exactly. That time span told Jim that Stonn had planned on arriving early, to prepare for this encounter. Spock walked up beside him before speaking. Modern Vulcan, and at a conversational speed so Jim’s UT worked perfectly. 

“Stonn, I have come as you requested.” Spock was beyond calm and unemotional, living stone, making Jim realize just how relaxed Spock was around humans. 

“T’Pring is dead.” 

“I am aware.” 

“Wondered if you were, being as weak as you are.” If that was a sample of the regard Stonn held for Spock, Jim could see why Spock didn’t want to encounter him. 

“If that has satisfied your enquiry, I will take my leave.” Politely having done his social duty, Spock was now ready to leave. 

“T’Lak was also destroyed with Vulcan.” 

“I grieve for thee.” Traditional words that Jim had heard often since Vulcan was destroyed. 

“You did not offer me such words when T’Pring died.” 

“I was unaware I should.” Spock’s eyebrow had twitched on his reflection in the window, but his voice remained free of curiosity. 

“Merely a confirmation of your weaknesses, your humanity.” Probably the kind of insults Spock was used to receiving from Stonn, so it didn’t even deserve an eyebrow. 

“Elucidate.” 

“T’Pring and I planned on being married. She told me that if you did not burn by the end of the year, she would sever the childbond.” 

“What of T’Lak?” 

“I was willing to give her up for T’Pring, but kept the link for the possibility of an early burning.” 

“Logical.” Spock said the word, and Jim wasn’t sure what they were on about, but he felt it was as cruel as it was logical. Jim found he was starting to dislike Stonn. 

“But they are dead.” Jim wouldn’t have known how to respond to Stonn’s statement, but Spock found an answer. 

“Kaiidth.” What is, is; another Vulcan phrase bandied about since the destruction. “Do you know why we are recalled to New Vulcan?” 

“Yes.” Stonn chose not to hear Spock’s reply, continuing as if Spock hadn’t made one. 

“They want to do a visual count to confirm the numbers. Then our genetic codes will be examined, so that we might produce offspring with the most genetic variation.” 

Stonn paused, but Spock didn’t speak. Perhaps it was because Stonn had ignored his last statement, so offering another would be illogical. 

“63 percent of the remaining Vulcans are male, and you know what fate awaits the unbonded.” 

“Your argument is flawed.” Spock’s response came so quickly, Jim thought Spock was getting defensive, though he had no idea about what. “Most Vulcans survived because they were off world at the time. They have a greater understanding of other cultures and individuals, so they might, potentially, find a mate amongst another species.” 

“Not all of us are perverted enough to reproduce with a lesser species.” 

“Nor are all of us as myopic specieists.” Jim couldn’t help but grin at the polite, underhanded Vulcan method of insulting people. 

“Most of our mind healers and priests resided outside of the range of current technology. The Masters could not be saved, so those who studied under them are being asked to fill their void.” 

“A logical method of preserving what we can.” 

“Interesting that you should agree, as I have decided on a position for you.” Stonn paused as if he planned on making Spock ask. Jim started rooting for Spock to not ask, to outsmart this guy that Jim couldn’t say he cared for. Spock stared out at the stars warping by and did not seem inclined to answer, until Stonn spoke again. “My elder brother has two children of his own, so it is statistically unlikely my genetic code will be required. Even if you are not as sterile as a Terran mule, you will not factor into the future of my species.” 

Stonn paused again, and Jim felt his nails digging into his palms. Was this guy, whom Jim really hated right now, proposing to Spock in the same breath he was insulting him with? If Spock was going to be in a non-reproductive relationship, Jim had a far better candidate in mind than Stonn. Spock simply held his peace, as if the view warped away his curiosity and anger. 

“Potentially sterile, strong psi rating despite handicap, physically weak, and yet strong enough to suffice.” Stonn had turned to look at Spock at last, as if hoping for a reaction. “I would have you for my time priestess.” 

Spock stiffened, even as he turned his head to stare at Stonn. Spock tried to remain impassive, but Jim swore he could see disgust in Spock’s eyes. When Spock replied, his voice was steady and made Jim think he’d imagined the emotions. “The Priestesses of the Time were honorable members of society, with many years of training to withstand multiple temporary links. I am honored by this appreciation in my psi abilities, but do not feel I could adequately serve in this post.” 

“Spock, I believe you have misunderstood.” The voice Stonn said this in was the condescending, arrogant voice many humans believed all Vulcans had. Jim had never heard Spock use that voice, and the idea of someone using it on Spock was blasphemous. “It is not your mind we need. Nor do I require your approval.” 

Spock stepped back, but Stonn’s sudden backhand caught him on the side of his head, on his left ear. Staggering a little, Spock was easily grabbed by Stonn and forced up against the window. “I find I have no qualms about treating you roughly, your long term condition not being my concern. Isn’t there a human quote about beating a rented mule, Sayerak?” 

Jim couldn’t take his eyes off them as Stonn leaned down and bit Spock’s neck Then Spock got a leg free and Jim was running across the room, yelling. 

“Asshole, get your fucking hands off m…” There were several things Jim could have been about to say when Spock nerve pinched Stonn. My friend, my first officer, my science officer, my Vulcan, but he was afraid he’d been about to say my Spock. That spoke of ownership and reciprocation, things that Jim didn’t have. But what would he have said if he went in there knowing what had just happened? It sounded like Stonn wanted Spock to join a convent or something (which would take Spock off the Enterprise and could not be allowed to happen) and have sex with him. Spock was not becoming a religious hooker on Kirk’s watch, that’s for damn sure. 

The beeping of the comm. distracted Jim. McCoy reporting that he’d let Spock leave, and Jim said he’d be down in a minute. Maybe two humans could figure this crap out. Or three. Returning to his comm., Jim called Uhura. She responded promptly, but only audibly as if she didn’t want him to see into her room. 

“Yes, Captain?” 

“Sorry to bother you, but I heard a Vulcan word and I was wondering if you knew what it meant.” 

“Your UT didn’t get it?” Suspicion in her voice, as if she thought he might be calling under a pretext to check up on her. 

“No, but you’re better than the UT.” True enough, but he put it in a playful tone. 

“Flatterer. What’s the word?” 

“Sayerak.” There was a pause, where Jim entertained the notion of Vulcan’s having cuss words. 

“Are you sure that’s how it sounded?” Uhura was puzzled, which meant she’d remember this conversation. Jim had been hoping to avoid that, just to save Spock any potential embarrassment. 

“Sayerak, that’s the best I can do.” 

“Sa is an gender noun for males and a yerak is a bowl. You must have heard wrong, because Vulcan bowls don’t have genders.” 

“Ok, if I hear it again, I’ll let you know. Thanks, Uhura, goodnight.” 

“Night.” She signed off and Jim left for sickbay once again. Why would Stonn call Spock a bowl? Why would Stonn insult Spock so openly, tell him he was stealing T’Pring from Spock, and then try and fuck him? Like Spock was little more than a receptacle for Stonn’s lust, a bowl for male juices, a cum bucket. Jim absorbed that thought, unaware of his surroundings until the lift door beeped at him. Realizing he was holding the door open, Jim stepped out and walked to sickbay. He needed Bones’ input before sharing this bit of guesswork. Bones was seated in his office, with two glasses and a bottle at the ready. He pored as Jim sat down. 

“Spock’s got a slight temperature, but he assures me it’s a byproduct of speeding up his metabolism to keep warm on the ship. The love bite was infected, but with common mouth germs and nothing I couldn’t fix. The ear was sore, but not as bad as I made it out to be trying to get him to let me treat him. Unless he’s lying and hiding symptoms from me, which is possible with his Vulcan voodoo, Spock is healthy. So what the fuck was that about?” 

“I’m not entirely sure. Try and bring up the security footage of the observation deck, a half hour before he showed up here.” Jim leaned back in his chair and sipped his drink, while McCoy messed around on his computer. Jim was refilling his glass when Bones slapped the side of his monitor. 

“After getting the royal runaround about permission and authorization, the footage is missing. The computer wants to know if I want to report the error to the First Officer. Am I right in thinking that would be pointless?” 

“Yeah, that’s why I saved a copy before coming down here earlier.” Bones offered him a quick salute with his bourbon glass, which Jim accepted graciously. “This Stonn guy was going on about how he was leaving his girl to get with Spock’s, I think. But both women died on Vulcan, so now he wants Spock to service him.” 

“Wait, by service, you don’t mean a tune up on his aircar, do you?” 

“Stonn’s under the impression he deserves to be serviced by someone, as will a lot of other Vulcan males. Spock told him to look outside the species, which is probably as close as Spock could get to go fuck yourself.” Bones grinned, appreciating Spock despite their differences. “Spock started to back away, got the hit on the ear that made him easy prey for the pure Vulcan strength of Stonn. I intervened shortly after and dragged you into this.” 

“If he was assaulted, why did he claim Stonn was ill? It’s not like Spock to lie when he could have simply chosen to not press charges.” Bones had a point there, and Jim thought about it. He’d believed Spock about the illness, not even thinking it might have been an avoidance of the truth. But then, the other Vulcans had seemed to back him up. What had they said to each other that he couldn’t understand? 

“Spock believes Stonn is sick. They have a history, and this guy was insulting and cruel to Spock. I don’t see any logical reason for Spock to lie about Stonn’s condition.” 

“Well, if you can’t get any answers from him, send him down here for a checkup every day until we reach New Vulcan.” 

“Ok, but you don’t have any idea of illnesses that would cause Vulcan’s to act like jerks?” 

“Sorry Jim, there’s no cure for being an asshole.” 

“Get to work on that.” 

McCoy rolled his eyes, but Jim refilled their glasses. They started talking of other subjects, but Jim’s main thoughts were on Spock’s secrets. 

**J <3S **

A bit of typing the next morning, and Jim had all requests from the Vulcan’s quarters routed to him. They didn’t ask for anything and kept quiet in their quarters that day. The hourly requests to speak with Spock started two days from New Vulcan. Kirk would send back a polite reply, saying that he would be happy to assist them. They’d respond that it was a personal matter for Spock, and Jim would imply that he’d pass the message on. At the start of the next hour, a new message would flash and the process would start over again. Apparently, they thought they could annoy the weak human into doing what they wanted, wearing down his resistance. 

Boy, had they picked the wrong human to try that with, Jim thought as he sent his latest response back to them. Considering the way they just kept sending differently worded messages every hour, they had no idea how to go about annoying someone. When they kicked it up to a message every half hour, Jim realized they’d brought plastic knives to a gun fight. Now his replies spoke of how he’d be happy to help and it was really starting to hurt his feelings that they didn’t trust him. Just to prove this, he put a frowning face where his signature should go. Emoticons for the emotionless, it seemed appropriate somehow. 

His replies involved as many random emotions he could think of and Jim imagined the Vulcans having to look them up to see what he was talking about. That got him thinking about other ways to keep them occupied. Captain Kirk concluded his message with ‘My Vulcan brethren, you are harshing my mellow with your reoccurring smurfiness’ and a shrugging stick figure. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Hitting send, Jim was grinning when he looked up at Spock’s approach. Spock had been avoiding him since the observation lounge, so Jim’s grin only got bigger as Spock got closer. 

“Captain, I have noticed that you have been receiving numerous messages over the last few days. I checked, and this represents a 78.46% increase in your daily communications. Is there some new duty you have undertaken that I might assist you with?” 

Jim’s smile fell away as he realized he’d been busted, half a day away from his goal. “Just chatting with some friends, not ships business.” 

“I was unaware you were friends with anyone residing in the guest quarters.” Spock had caught him, but Jim wasn’t concerned. It had been a gamble to lie to Spock, but he’d tried on the slim chance that Spock hadn’t done his research. Slim was more like none in this instance, but he’d tried. 

“I was getting bored, so I intercepted the calls from the guests, that’s all.” 

“Captain, now that I am aware of Stonn’s illness, I know how to conduct myself around him. You need not stop me from doing my duty out of some fear for my safety.” 

Jim leaned in to whisper at Spock. “Bullshit, mister. That man was stronger than you and you won’t talk about it. Without McCoy backing up your claim that he’s not contagious, I’m not letting you near those guys, no matter how much they ask.” 

“They have asked for me?” Spock seemed surprised by that news, so he hadn’t broken the encryption Jim placed around his messages the other day. “For what reason, Sir?” 

“They won’t say, so you won’t go see them, understood?” 

“Understood, Captain.” A nod and Spock returned to his station. 

It didn’t matter if Spock was emotionless or not, Jim would swear Spock was grateful. With a goofy grin, Jim went back to annoying the crap out of some Vulcans. He wondered what they’d make of some Old Earth song lyrics? 

**J <3S **

Less than ten hours to New Vulcan, two hours before the end of the alpha shirt, and the Vulcan’s missed sending their message. Jim waited a full sixty seconds before turning around. Spock wasn’t there, so Jim went over to his station. Spock had logged that he was going to the science lab, but that was ten minutes ago and he hadn’t logged in there. Jim plugged the earpiece into his ear and had the computer locate Spock. 

Before he could get irritated to find Spock in his quarters, Jim ran a search on their guests. Four of them were in Spock’s quarters. Trying not to panic, Jim sent two security teams to wait in the hallway and convinced the computer to show him inside of Spock’s quarters. Spock had his arms lose and ready at his side, ready for a fight. Between him and the bathroom was a large Vulcan, the other three blocking the main entrance. With his guts twisting into writhing snakes, Jim listened in. 

“Spock, we have discussed it over the last several days. Stonn’s actions were guided by his advancing condition and inappropriate.” The one speaking sounded Vulcan controlled and reasonable, but Jim wasn’t ready to relax yet. “After considerable analysis, however, we cannot fault Stonn’s logic.” 

“I can. I do not have the training or inclination to accept the position he asked of me.” 

“Despite your mixed heritage, your psi abilities are above average and will increase with use. You will learn and perform adequately while they do so.” Spock’s hands were now fists, the only visible sign that he did not want to be in this position. “Is it not logical to do that which will benefit your society most?” 

“Perhaps, as Stonn so recently reminded me, I am not Vulcan enough to be that logical.” Spock understood what they wanted, more than Jim did, but neither of them wanted this for Spock. 

“If so, then this is your only opportunity to find honor within Vulcan society.” Another Vulcan Jim owed a punch in the mouth, but for now he had a better idea. One he acted on before Spock could think too much and allow his desire of acceptance influence this decision. Pushing the correct button, Jim’s voice echoed throughout the ship. 

“Commander Spock to the bridge, Spock to the bridge.” Spock recognized the out when he heard it, even if he suspected the timing. 

“Forgive me, gentleman, but my presence is required elsewhere.” Spock inclined his head, but had to wait for a response. “The Captain will not be please if I do not answer his summons.” 

“Then do not let us keep you. I trust you will meditate on our words, so we may discuss this at a later time.” The speaker turned, and slowly the Vulcans left Spock’s quarters. 

Not trusting them, Jim contacted the security teams and suggested they offer to assist the Vulcans with finding the guest quarters. Spock headed to the bridge with alacrity. Jim closed everything down and took out the earpiece. When the turbolift doors opened Jim was waiting to push Spock back into the lift. The door closed as he told Sulu he had the con. Setting the destination for the lift, Jim looked up at Spock. 

“You ready to explain yet?” 

“To what are you referring, Captain?” 

“To the fact that I felt the need to send four armed security officers to your quarters, to protect you from a politer version of what happened the other day.” 

“It is not my place to tell you.” 

“Are you sure? Because those Vulcans seem to think you’re an expert in it.” The doors opened and Jim used his expression to make Spock walk with him. Spock could tell they were headed to sickbay and started to try and talk his way out of it. 

“Captain. Jim, it is not that they believe me an expert. It is because they believe I am immune to the sickness that they think I can help them with it.” 

“Are you immune?” 

“The doctors could not determine one way or the other.” Spock answered while Jim stood outside the doors to sickbay, with no need to verbalize his threat of a medical exam. 

“You don’t want to do it, whatever it is they want you to do to help them.” 

“It would require that I remain on New Vulcan for the rest of my life. My interests in exploration and science would be curtailed by this new, career path.” Along with the hesitation before career, Spock also let disgust into his voice. 

“What do they want from you?” 

“It is a thing no outsider must know.” Spock was trying out a new facial expression, a slight crease in his forehead and puppy dog eyes, begging Jim to stop. Jim could have easily given in to those exotic eyes, if he didn’t know this was important. 

“Am I still an outsider to you, Spock?” From Spock’s surprised blink, Jim thought that might have sounded just a little closer to the truth than he wanted. So he retreated to his unspoken threat. “Do you discuss it with your healers?” 

“Most would recognize the symptoms and discussion would be a waste of effort.” 

“Spock, if anybody else tried to hide something from me like this, you’d recommend I toss ‘em in the brig.” Regulations, for once being used against their biggest supporter. And, just to be sure, Jim sent his pleading, puppy dog eyes at Spock. 

“Very well, Jim. I will explain what I can.” 

“To Bones as well?” Jim sucked in the side of his lower lip and kept up the begging eyes. 

“If you insist.” 

At Spock’s words, Jim entered Sick Bay, hoping Spock didn’t see the triumphant expression he’d just made. It was such a thrill to know that not even Vulcans were immune to the Kirk charm, now he just needed to test it on Klingons. A reluctant Spock followed Jim to McCoy’s office, where they found the good doctor scowling at a padd. 

“Bones, Spock’s going to tell us what’s going on!” 

“I’d ask your technique, but considering it’s you?” Bones’ scowl got deeper as he watched Jim pull the second visitor’s chair up beside the desk. “It wouldn’t work for anybody else, would it?” 

“Nope.” Jim plopped into a chair, and Spock attempted to sit in the other one without touching it. “Spock, whenever you’re ready.” 

“Doctor, if you would turn off any recording devices in the room, I will begin.” McCoy could be expected to have private medical conversations in his office, it was a matter of seconds for him to engage the privacy settings and nod at Spock to continue. 

“Male Vulcans are subject to a particular condition, a loss of emotional control that can lead to death. There are more symptoms, but as I am not afflicted I do not believe I can share them with you. Other Vulcans hold the cure and before, logical means were used to limit the impact of this condition.” 

McCoy raised a hand, but spoke before Spock could give permission. “I know you’re talking about before the Narada incident, but the rest of that sentence didn’t make sense.” 

“This condition, known as the Pon Farr occurs in fully grown males about every seven years. It is a biological drive, which even we do not fully understand. Before, as his time approached, a male would return to Vulcan or his wife would join him.” 

“Hold your horses there, Spock! Biological drives and wives? Are we talking about Vulcan sex here?” 

“Yes, McCoy.” 

The lack of his title was Spock’s unemotional, polite insult, but Jim was too intrigued to notice. Jim shifted in his chair to better hide his interest in the intriguing conversation. 

“It is more than physical; there is a telepathic component as well. This means that a physical substitute will not suffice. The Priestesses of the Time were trained to establish this mental connection, and gradually sever it as the male’s time passed.” 

Jim traded a glance with Bones, both knowing that was the position Stonn wanted Spock for. Spock noticed, and acknowledged it. 

“After the destruction, it was believed that the older Vulcans should be entered into the genetic database first, so as not to disturb the activities of their direct descendents. But many of my generation have prematurely entered their Pon Farr cycles and have been called to New Vulcan find a solution.” 

“Spock,” Jim found he had to speak or risk losing his emotional control. “You are more than a solution to a biological drive.” 

“Thank you, Jim.” Spock sounded unaffected, but the arm rest under his hand creaked as he squeezed it. “Before, my hybrid heritage was considered a possible cure for the condition. If I did not burn, the healers might better understand why pure Vulcans do. Now that difference marks me as Sayerak.” 

“Spock, I don’t know the meaning of that word, but I’ve got a good idea.” Jim tired to keep his voice gentle, his tone conversational, but gave up on the effort as he snarled into Spock’s face. “And if I ever hear you using that word in reference to yourself, it’ll be over Stonn’s dead body.” 

Rather confused by this sudden outburst, Spock was unsure of how to respond. He risked a look at McCoy, but the doctor had a very unhelpful, dreamy expression on his face as he looked at Jim. Spock quickly dismissed the idea of explaining it wasn’t as derogatory of a term as Jim seemed to think. “Understood, Jim.” 

Jim smiled at him, a blazing smile completely at odds with the angry man he’d been a moment ago, but both emotions heartfelt. Spock suddenly felt a need to swallow, and attempted to bring the conversation back to what he’d been so wary of discussing before. 

“There are numerous rituals involved, including the ceremonial bonding at the age of seven.” 

“Seven? Your parents fixed you up at seven?” McCoy was indignant, and Jim kind of agreed with him on that. 

“Arrangements such as these for political reasons were common enough on Earth.” 

“Common enough still doesn’t make it a good idea.” 

“Back to the issue at hand, gentleman.” Jim stood and began to pace as he planned. “Spock, we’ll be at New Vulcan shortly.” 

“Nine hours and seven minutes, Captain.” 

“Right, shortly. And until we drop these people off, you won’t be out of my sight long enough to go to the can.” 

“What can, Captain?” 

“I’ll explain, over an early supper and a few games of chess locked in my cabin. You feel like sleeping or meditating, you do so on my bunk. Clear?” 

“Not entirely. I do not understand why you feel the need to escort me about my night.” 

“Yes, Jimmy, why don’t you tell him why you want him in your bunk?” Bones sounded so smug, Jim had to stick his tongue out at him. 

“Because, Spock.” A glance at Bones let him know Jim wasn’t talking to him right now. McCoy just snickered at him. “Vulcans are smart, strong and capable of anything they believe logical. You’ve just said they may be emotionally compromised as well, so I’m not putting anything passed them.” 

“Putting what passed them?” 

“There’s nothing they won’t do, and you knew what I meant.” 

“I could volunteer for Beta shift, where the bridge crew and science teams would be able to alert security in an emergency. Then you would not have to compromise your sleep schedule.” 

“Like I’d sleep, waiting to see if someone tries something. Besides, I have to be up to talk to Pike when we get there.” Rolling his eyes, Jim turned to frown at McCoy. “Bones, you joining us for supper or are you just going to put snide comments about my eating habits in my file as usual?” 

McCoy considered a moment before replying. “Both.” 

**J <3S **

Jim expected Pike to have further words about making inappropriate jokes on company time, so he wasn’t surprised when Pike called the instant they were in range. That he almost begged Jim to beam down was a surprise, apparently Pike missing someone to drink beer and shoot the breeze with. Once the Vulcans were off the ship, Jim went readily. 

He couldn’t talk about the Pon Farr stuff Spock had said in confidence, but Pike would laugh at the annoyance war Jim had going on with the Vulcans. Jim had only started on his second beer when the electricity went off. He didn’t need Pike’s muttered ‘that’s weird’ to know something was very, very wrong. His communicator was in his hand before he thought about it. 

“Kirk to Enterprise.” 

“Enterprise here, Captain.” The deep voice that responded was not the deep voice Jim needed to hear. 

“Commander Fry, location of Mr. Spock.” 

“New Vulcan. He received a call from Ambassador Sarek and beamed down a half hour ago, Sir.” 

“Keep an eye on the planet, something’s gone wrong.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Kirk out.” Jim looked to Pike, who was frowning at his computer. 

“Net’s down too. We should go to the command center and see if we can help.” Jim nodded and gestured for Pike to lead the way. If he hadn’t need directions he would have ran as he called the ship. Pike set his chair to top speed the instant they were out of the doorway, but Jim easily kept up with him. “Jim, should I ask why your first instinct was to check in on Spock?” 

“Can’t talk, running.” 

Pike would have laughed at the absurdity of saying that as opposed to a simple yes or no, but they were almost to the first building built. The computers it housed had helped establish building plans and settlement options. Now the data it held was the future of the species, a genetic census meant to preserve them. Vulcans were logically interested in the survival of this building, working now on backup generators. 

Pike and Kirk were granted access because everyone knew the humans were representatives of the Federation. To start, they could only listen and try to find out what the problem was. A computer virus had shut down the main computer, which still controlled the electricity. As computer programmers raced to stop the virus, it was shutting down functions, heading for the memory core. 

Jim leaned over a shoulder to see the lines of code, but knew his limited understanding of written Vulcan would hinder his ability to help. Frustrated, he was easily distracted by some late arrivals. His relief at seeing Sarek was undercut by his despair at seeing Spock was with him, but Spock senior. Pushing over to Sarek, Jim was very careful to not grab the ambassador and shake him. 

“Sir, the ship said Spock was with you.” 

“I was at a council meeting and had not yet been able to talk to my son.” 

Jim turned, but Spock Sr. wasn’t there. He was standing with his back to Jim, staring at the wall. He made a move, and a collective intake of breathe was the equivalent of Vulcan panic as all the computer screens went blank. Into the silence, Spock Sr. spoke, apparently having turned off the power. 

“Any power outage of more than thirty seconds will enact firewalls around the memory core. All input since the last backup will be lost, but the loss of less than thirty minutes of work, at this time of night, is negligible. The virus relied on the emergency power to continue, suggesting this was a distraction. Has anything out of the ordinary, other than this, occurred?” Spock asked the question of the crowd at large, but Jim was the first to reply. 

“Spock is missing. He was lured down here by a fake message, and he would have responded to this emergency.” 

Spock Sr. twitched an eyebrow at Jim, but inclined his head. “Then we shall look for him, Captain Kirk.” 

Jim smiled, knowing there was a reason he loved this man. 

**J <3S **


	2. Slow Burn

Jim got the ship scanning for life-signs, plotting out the locations of all the Vulcans. The ship’s sensors weren’t sensitive enough to tell Spock’s life signs from other Vulcans, so Jim decided Scotty was going to fix that as soon as this crisis was over. Soon, Spock Sr. was talking directly with the ship, while Jim organized volunteers into a logical search pattern.

A group of Vulcans restarted the computers to get the colony back into working order. Once the computer was proclaimed virus free, it was connected with the ship’s computer to compare data. As the search parties visually confirmed that Spock was not at a location, this information was added to narrow down possibilities. Jim found that commanding a Vulcan search party meant that he was in a building, talking to the people doing the actual search. He hated it. Hated it with every fiber of his being, and almost danced when Spock Sr.’s voice reached him across the room. 

“Jim, the ship has located him.” Jim was on his feet and across the room before the soft sentence was finished, bending down to almost yell into the communicator. 

“Beam me there.” 

“May I come?” Spock Sr. asked, and Jim saw no reason to refuse. 

“Two to beam.” 

“Working, Sir.” Scotty’s voice was clear and then the feeling of the transporter reached Jim. When he began to reform in the foothills of a mountain range, Jim realized why it had taken the ship so long to transport him. McCoy and ten security officers were already there, staring at an object. Standing beside Bones, Jim saw a ten person transport with Vulcan writing under a camouflaged tarpaulin. McCoy nodded at it, when he noticed Jim. 

“It’s the Spock lust bus.” Jim flushed, but Spock Sr. spoke from behind them. 

“Did you call for me, Doctor?” McCoy paled, but didn’t stumble out an explanation as Jim had tried on Pike and Sarek. The good doctor went straight for the distraction. 

“We should hurry, someone might be hurt.” 

Security had already arranged themselves to go inside, not knowing why the old Vulcan was there. Spock Sr. had to force himself to not fall into place beside Jim. If anyone other than Spock had been in that cave, Jim would have taken the time to comfort Spock Sr. As it was, he just took the phaser Bones handed him and lead them in. 

An overhang of rock almost hid a small cave entrance, so Jim knelt and looked inside before entering. Once through the opening, he would be able to stand and the kidnappers had kindly left lights on to show the way. But by stopping to look, Jim also saw the sensor just inside the cave. He gestured to Bones, who attempted to sneak up to Jim. Jim pantomimed until McCoy finally handed over his medical scanner. 

Quickly, to spare Bones the painful sight, Jim slammed the scanner onto a rock. It split open and allowed Jim access to the wires. A few wires got moved into new slots, and Jim set the scanner near the sensor. Hoping it worked as well at it had on the academy sensors on certain cadet’s rooms, Jim ducked into the cave. When nothing happened, no shrieks of alarm or automatic phaser fire, Jim gestured for the others to follow and started sneaking down the twisting tunnel. He hadn’t gone far when he spelled copper, the tang of Vulcan blood. 

It was difficult not to run toward it, but Jim just managed not to. The first Vulcan he saw was unconscious, with a swelling eye and a split lip. Jim also managed not to walk on the guy, as hard and heavy as he could, wiping his feet on the fancy robe. Beyond Spock’s first victim the tunnel twisted to the left and Jim edged around carefully, locking his body and mind into not reacting to what he was about to see. A Vulcan was sitting, attempting to stem the blood that flowed from his obviously broken nose. Jim might have offered to help, had not the man been sitting on Spock’s legs. 

Another Vulcan held Spock’s hands, pulling them to Spock’s left side. Stonn knelt to the right of Spock’s head, his hands on the meld points. It was eerie, how silent it all was, but Jim knew Spock had carried the fight into his mind. Jim used two fingers to point, showing Cupcake that he was to get the Vulcan on Spock’s feet. Slowly counting down from 3 with his fingers, they both fired at the same time. The two Vulcans crumpled, but Stonn didn’t even twitch. Jim ran to kneel beside Spock, waiting for Bones and Spock Sr. to join them. 

“It was wise of you not to stun Stonn, Jim.” Spock Sr. offered, but Jim snorted. 

“Not wise, selfish. I wanted to beat him senseless.” 

“Either way, their minds must be divided before their bodies.” 

“Do it then.” 

“I cannot predict what will happen, should I allow my mind to touch Spock’s.” 

“What about Stonn’s?” 

“I will try, but if he is too deep in Spock’s mind, another telepath will have to assist. Leonard, trust your instincts. If you believe something is going wrong with the meld, act.” 

Bones looked startled, both at the familiar use of his name and the trust that came with that comment. With his scanner broken, Bones would need to touch Spock to check for injuries. For now, though, all he and Jim could do was watch as the real fight took place beyond their understanding. 

Spock Sr. stood behind Stonn, his fingers finding their place on Stonn while Spock Sr. looked at Jim. Time stopped as they waited, Security having secured the others, until Spock Sr. pulled away from Stonn. Spock Sr. was still working things through in his mind, for he gave no indication of how it had gone. Stonn slowly crumpled to the floor of the cave and Jim made sure Stonn was no longer touching his Spock. Spock the younger, Jim forced himself to mentally amend. 

“Stonn was so focused on attacking, that he left his basic functions unguarded.” Spock Sr. spoke at last and Jim spared him a look, to ask what he meant. “I made him so sleepy, he had to leave Spock and take a nap.” 

Jim grinned at the simplicity, but Bones startled laugh seemed to help bring Spock out of his head. His glance around was interrupted by the arrival of soft footed Vulcans, who Security eyed with suspicion. Both Spocks seemed to tighten their emotional control, trained to be the most Vulcan when around Vulcans. Jim stood, purposely hiding Spock Jr. from them, allowing Spock Jr. to recover before being seen by those who treated him so poorly. They’d have to get through Jim to hurt Spock again, either Spock. 

“Welcome to the party.” Jim said with a smile, expecting to be the focus of confused interest. When the tall Vulcan in the bowl cut and harsh robe spoke, Jim realized she was female. 

“Captain, you should have allowed us to deal with this internal matter.” Jim was about to tell her just what he thought of this matter, but while he was forming his lips into a snarl, Spock Sr. spoke. 

“Had Captain Kirk waited, Stonn would have succeeded. A rescue party, after that point, would be wasteful.” 

“At least you were allowed to come, elder S’ellak, to control the situation.” 

By the way she said ‘situation’ Jim knew she was referring to him and his humanity. Jim was distracted by again, but this time by a feeling of amusement that he knew was coming from Spock Sr. 

“I assure you, T’Ken, such a thing is highly improbable.” Spock Sr. couldn’t do it, so Jim grinned smugly at the Vulcan woman. “I only came to offer my telepathic abilities.” 

“Formidable as your abilities may be, elder; it would be wisest to get Spock to a healer.” 

“I do not require a healer at this time.” 

Spock spoke at last, and Jim frowned down at him. Speaking had restarted the bleeding on his lip and he held his arm in a way Jim didn’t like. Bones was frowning in a way that Jim usually saw over his own injured body when Bones was humoring his patient until he could get Jim into sickbay. Spock looked to his elder counterpart, who turned back to T’Ken. 

“Spock’s injuries are only physical and can be mended by Dr. McCoy. As such, it may be logical to return Spock to the Enterprise until a solution to the current difficulty can be decided upon.” 

T’Ken fixed her eyes on Spock Sr. to speak, but Jim couldn’t get a read on what she felt about the words she said. “After this incident, I believe your solution will be approved.” 

Her and a male stepped forward to grab the sleeping Stonn and carry him out of the cave. When only Enterprise crew and former crew were in the cave, Spock asked his counterpart. 

“What solution have you presented to the council?” Jim could see the irritation in Spock’s eyes, as Spock felt he should be able to think up anything Spock Sr. could. Spock Sr. gave a very human shrug as he replied. 

“You will learn of it soon enough, at the council’s discretion. Be well.” With a nod at the humans, Spock Sr. turned and left the cave. Jim watched him go, and let McCoy call for their transport back to the ship. Nurse Chapel was waiting with a hover stretcher, which Jim had to glare Spock into getting on. As they maneuvered it into the hallway, Jim wished he had the courage to hold Spock’s hand. 

“Captain, it is unnecessary for you to observe the Doctor’s work.” 

Now Jim found his hand had a death grip on the edge of the stretcher, to keep himself from telling Spock just what he thought of that suggestion. 

“I’m allowed to be concerned for a crewmember.” 

“I will be functional before we leave orbit. I chose not to press charges against the individuals involved, as they were ill and irrational. What other concerns do you have?” 

‘I love you and want to see if chocolate makes you drunk like Chekov said’ was the response that came to Jim, but he didn’t feel now was the time to blurt that out. Instead he stopped outside the door of sickbay and let Spock be separated from him. There was a long moment where he was too confused to feel anything, but he shook it off and marched purposely back to his cabin. After convincing the computer he had the authorization (he was Captain, damn it, what more did he need), Jim pulled up the security feed in Sickbay. 

McCoy was highly efficient at getting Spock onto a biobed, setting it for Spock’s unique physical parameters, and starting his diagnoses. He did all this while keeping up a string of muttered insults, complaints and curse words that would embarrass sailors. Jim considered some of those muttered words to be highly appropriate, because he felt guilty and dirty for watching Spock this way. Though, to be fair, if Spock would only talk to him, Jim wouldn’t have to resort to stalking him to find out what was happening. 

Spock’s left shoulder was dislocated, he had four cracked ribs, a lose tooth and a split lip, but Jim wasn’t allowed to be there to hold his hand. The abrasions on his hands showed Spock had dealt out his share of damage, and Jim would have paid for footage of that. Outnumbered by stronger opponents, Spock probably would have won if his opponents had been thinking logically, predictably. Spock had learned a few benefits of illogic during his time with Jim, in chess matches and fighting. 

Though Spock had known a few things instinctively on the bridge that day, letting his emotions show Jim just how powerful he could be. Now, Jim could lick his lips and think about how fantastic it would be to have that focused on him, in a naked, mutually beneficial sort of way. With a groaning exhale, Jim slammed his forehead onto his desk. 

The pain helped to distract him, as his thoughts always went there when he was bored. This was all Spock’s fault. Not even Spock Sr. could take the blame, as that first mind meld had been about friendship. That’s what Spock had said, but Jim still felt it, the lust, need and love Spock Sr. felt for Jim Sr. Jim didn’t know how involved those two had gotten, but it made him take a third look at his Spock. 

The first look had been adversarial, the second look involved hands on throats and near death experiences. The ‘third time’s the charm’ look had been reserved for the man who had walked onto the bridge and asked for a job. That emotion free request had said Spock understood he could learn from Jim, accepted that they worked well together and apologized for marooning Jim. After that, Jim had never stopped looking. 

Blinded by what he was seeing, Jim had fallen so deep in love that he was never getting out, and he was happy about that. So how did one seduce a man who’d only ever been involved in heterosexual relationships? The fiancé didn’t count, as that was an arranged marriage that Spock had been willing to get out of when he dated Uhura. Slowly getting to know Uhura was kind of working, but the mission might be over before he found a way to ask her how to seduce Spock. 

“How long you going under?” McCoy’s voice, no longer a mumble, snapped Jim’s attention back to his screen. 

Spock was considering something before he replied. “Six hours should be adequate.” 

“I get a grip on this healing trance stuff and you toss Pon Farr onto the pile. You just told me about it to annoy me, right?” 

“I chose to inform you so that you would be able to stop me, should I act inappropriately.” 

“Yeah, one lonely tomcat on a ship is enough.” 

“The feline ancestry of Vulcans is not responsible for the Pon Farr.” 

“I wasn’t talking about you, never mind.” Bones shook his head, and tried to push on. “Healing trance now, and I’ll lock up all the women if you ever spike a fever.” 

“Doctor, you have misunderstood. If I burn, I may harm the captain, and that cannot be allowed.” 

“Jim? For fuck’s sake, communication helps, people!” Bones threw up his hands and stormed away muttering about doctor patient confidentiality and sticking his nose in other people’s business where it would get bitten off by rabid tomcats or whatever the Vulcan equivalent was. 

His muttering was cut off by the closing of his office door, but Jim only heard the beating of his own heart. Spock was afraid of acting inappropriately to Jim when his biology kicked in. Of burning for his captain in the Vulcan way. That meant, that right now, when Spock was in his right mind, he wanted Jim. Spock wanted Jim. 

It finally sunk in, and Jim was on his feet doing a very happy, goofy, triumphant dance. He could have danced for a while, making undignified noises and laughing, but he remembered Spock would be in a trance for six hours. The logical thing to do would be sleep and get his strength up to seduce Spock once he was healed. But Jim was human and far too excited to sleep. 

A quick change of clothes and he went for a jog, wearing out his body while planning how to tell Spock. Without admitting that he’d been listening in, or that Bones had been teasing Jim about his obsession for months, but he couldn’t lie. So he’d start out with something simple like ‘Spock, when you were kidnapped, it took all my emotional control to not kill those bastards. Nor can I promise similar restraint if it ever happens again.’ Or would that be coming on too strong? 

Two hours later, when Jim looked up from his panting breaths and jellied legs, he noted his location. He was standing in front of sickbay, with only a door between him and Spock. If four crazed Vulcan’s couldn’t stop him, a door didn’t stand a chance. As he crossed the room, Jim noticed Bones asleep at his desk, so he was alone with Spock. Jim stood beside Spock and looked, feeling his whole self calm down just from being near a healing, breathing Spock. Suddenly tired, Jim knew he needed to go back to his cabin, knew he would sleep now. Smiling, he leaned down and kissed Spock’s forehead. 

“I’ll tell you when you wake. We can’t waste another moment.” Smiling, Jim made it back to his cabin in time to collapse on his bed. It didn’t occur to him to lock his door or turn off the lights, but he wasn’t surprised when he woke to see Spock sitting before the chessboard. He was still in the basic black clothes used in medical, though he wore them well. “Hey Spock. How are you?” 

“I have recovered, but McCoy still relieved me of duty for forty-eight hours.” 

“I’ll have to talk to the Vulcans about all that happened.” 

“I suspect the Ambassador has taken care of most of that for you.” 

“Like you, doing half my paperwork so it gets done on time. You really think I didn’t notice?” Rolling onto his back for a full body stretch, Jim hoped Spock would show some interest in the view. Whatever brought Spock here was distracting him though, as his next words showed. 

“S’ellak, as my other self has begun to call himself, has a sense of humor.” 

“Nothing wrong with that, even your father mocked me when I, uh, when I put my foot in my mouth.” Pulling off his t-shirt, Jim gave it a quick sniff and made a disgusted face. Clearly, his workout clothes were dirty, and he was not attempting to seduce Spock by stripping in front of him. 

“Did you remove your boots before attempting this feat?” 

“Feat of foot. Even you have a sense of humor.” Jim wiggled his toes at Spock, as he had lost his shoes and socks sometime last night. 

“S’ellak is a derivative of an Earth word and not a proper Vulcan name. I wonder if anyone has noticed.” 

“I’ve never heard the word, so I doubt anybody called him on it.” Jim shook his head, more at the idea that Vulcans had equations for developing names than his ignorance of the reference word. Getting to his feet, Jim stretched again. He couldn’t help it if this action caused the old sweat pants to settle on his hips. The band of his underwear stayed on his waist, and helped the observer notice how close he was to losing his trousers. If the observer wasn’t reliving his days as a professor, lecturing at the drop of a hat. 

“Shellac is a natural polymer plastic formed from the lac bug of India, Earth. Also used as a clear coat to protect and varnish wood. I believe S’ellak is willing to be as malleable as plastic to protect certain things. Namely, New Vulcan and you.” Spock’s eyes glittered as he looked at Jim, pulling the captain into the discussion. 

“I can’t help his feelings, or past experiences.” 

“No, but he touched your mind. Are you convinced that his emotions did not influence you?” 

“Sure they influenced, everything we see or experience influences us. I felt part of his feelings, but they didn’t make me love you.” 

“Love?” Surprise was noticeable in Spock’s voice, and both his eyebrows moved. Jim froze at the look, staring down at Spock, who still sat before the chessboard. 

“Yeah, isn’t that what you were talking about?” 

“I thought, perhaps he had talked his way onto the search party in order to be closer to you. I wondered if he was attempting to ingratiate himself to you.” 

“Spock, I just got up and I haven’t had any coffee, so help me out here. It sounds like you think your alternative, elder self is trying to seduce me, and you’re jealous.” 

“Being jealous of myself would be highly illogical. I was simply attempting to determine his intentions for you.” 

“My bullshit detector just started screaming and laughing, Spock.” 

“I hear no alarms, screams, or laughter.” Now Spock was being deliberately thick, so Jim pulled up his command voice. 

“Spock, he tried to hide his feelings from me in the link, hide his history, and only show what I had to know. Not the actions of a man who wants to claim me in this life as well. Telling you to join the ship would also be illogical, if that was his goal. I came to my own conclusions about you being the love of my life.” 

“What?” 

“Don’t make me repeat what I know you heard, this mushy crap is embarrassing enough as it is.” 

“Mushy crap sounds like a problem you should discus with the Doctor.” 

Confused, Spock had tilted his head to the side as he attempted to see the logic in the change of conversation. Jim wanted to explain it, fix Spock’s confusion, but his genius level IQ chose that moment to abandon him. Trusting his heart, Jim imagined shoving all his feelings for Spock into his hand, a variation of a meditation technique he’d read about. Stepping up, he placed the hand with his emotions on the side of Spock’s face, and waited. Slowly, Spock brought his hand up to cover Jim’s. 

“Jim, I do not know if I am Vulcan enough to burn in their way. But my human side already burns for you.” 

In one fluid movement, Jim straddled Spock’s lap and pushed their lips together. Some part of his mind was trying to convince Jim to take it slow, allow for Spock’s inexperience. A good idea, except Jim was already harder than he’d been in months, losing himself in the warmth of Spock. And air brushed his backside, making him aware that Spock was carrying him to the bed, stripping off his remaining clothes as he did so. Spock, who was still wearing the clothes used in medical, the ones designed to tear off in an emergency. As Captain, Jim declared this an emergency and started ripping. 

He couldn’t see Spock, because the kiss refused to end, but then there was a hand that wasn’t his own on Jim’s cock. Spock’s hand. His Spock! His Spock, and his alone forever and ever, in every universe. Jim lost himself to that idea, floating in a pit of pure pleasure that ended in a burst of orgasm as a lone finger entered his asshole. Awareness returned slowly, but brought with it a debauched Vulcan, looking overwhelmed by something. 

“Spock, you look fantastic, if a bit confused.” 

“I was unprepared for the intensity of that interaction.” 

“Yeah, it blew my mind too. Don’t worry about it; I’m sure it will get better as we try more things.” 

“Better?” 

“Much better.” 

“I yield to your expertise in this matter.” Spock said in the same voice he used on the bridge. With the endorphins in his system, Jim couldn’t help but laugh. Spock’s kiss killed the laugh, but made Jim far happier. By following the Jim Kirk method of teaching, Spock would be an expert himself, rather soon. 

**J <3S **

Len had watched Spock leave sickbay, before moving back to his office. He had paperwork to do, incident reports, and things to add to Spock’s medical record. Plus the stuff about Pon Farr that would never make it into an official report, but Len could make notes for himself. Hand written notes that relied on a mix of Latin, Southern American English and a doctor’s illegible handwriting to make it indecipherable. 

Reading through the data provided by the monitoring equipment, Len found an unexplained increase in Spock’s temperature. Close to five in the morning, Spock’s temp had risen three degrees and not decreased over time. Within Spock’s normal range, but it made Len curious. When his equipment couldn’t give a reason for it, Len pulled up the security feed. 

He wasn’t at all surprised to see Jim sneaking in to check on Spock. Ever since Len had seen the lustful, kicked puppy look Jim sent to Spock’s back after some argument or other, Len had known. Jim had fallen for the one person in the universe who wouldn’t actively try and seduce Jim. 

Len had teased Jim, trying to make him tell Spock. Get it out in the open, let it flourish in the sunlight or wither and die. Either way, Len wasn’t surprised to see Jim stand beside Spock, his whole aspect softening as he smiled down. The kiss to the forehead and the words that followed were enough to make Len breathe a sigh of relief. Jim was finally going to shit or get off the pot. Jim turned and walked out of sickbay, while behind him Spock’s temp rose a degree. 

The other two degrees came within a half hour, and were there when Spock woke hours later. As if a kiss from Jim was all it took to start up the biological drive or something. Len rolled his eyes at the idea, but froze as he thought about it. Vulcan brains were highly developed, more so than humans, so they could be telepathic and control their body functions with that mental hoodoo. And a disruption to that control could take many forms, including an emotional difficulty. So why not an emotional catalyst for a physical problem? It was a simple idea, but required a form of intuitive thinking that logical Vulcan’s might not be able to grasp. Spock was off duty, and Len wanted to run this idea by him, but just calling him to sick bay would make Jim worry. 

“Computer, locate Spock.” 

“Please restate request.” 

“Seriously?” Another eye roll, as Len knew exactly who was in charge of programming the computer; the same person he was looking for. “Computer, locate Commander Spock.” 

“Commander Spock is in Captain Kirk’s quarters.” That was unexpected, and had Len blinking at his ceiling. He’d expected Jim to hunt down the Vulcan for his confession. “Do you wish to initiate communications with Commander Spock?” 

“NO! That is, not now, Computer. End query.” Once this was settled, Len was going to get Spock to tone down the formality with the voice recognition protocols, but right now he wanted to flesh out this idea he’d had. And to do that, he needed to talk to Spock. Or a wiser, more mature version that just happened to be on the planet below. A quick search of the locals and he had S’ellak’s address sent to the transporter console. A new medical scanner to replace the one Jim had broken, and a medical tricorder on his hip in case S’ellak allowed him to do some doctoring, and Len beamed down. 

Still didn’t like the soul scrambler, as he thought of the transporter, but it got him there. At least, he hoped it was there, as the small house on the outskirts of town seemed to be overflowing with guests. Air cars neatly parked beside what Len was sure was the same Spock lust bus of the night before. He paused to consider if he should go back to the ship, only to find that same woman from last night walking toward him from the house. Obviously Spock was busy, so he’d just find a polite reason to come back later. 

“Were you sent for?” For such a supposedly emotion-free race, they sure could pack a lot of ire into their words. 

As much as Len’ argued about the benefit of emotions with Spock, it was because he thought Spock would learn from it. This woman seemed so stuck in her ways that Len knew it wasn’t worth arguing with her. 

“No, ma’am. Just stopped by for a chat. I see he’s busy, I’ll come back later.” 

“Fleeing at the first sign of resistance is a sign of guilt.” 

“Guilt? Don’t you mean culpability? Never knew a Vulcan yet who could avoid using the largest word possible.” 

“Semantics do not equate a denial.” 

“Really, I just came to chat. I’m from the Enterprise, we brought S’ellak here and I just wanted to say hi.” 

“Then why did you bring medical implements?” 

“I’m a doctor, it’s a habit.” 

“You may not leave until the meeting is over, and you will give me the device.” 

“Look, lady. Call my ship if you want to confirm who I am, but you don’t get to take my equipment or keep me prisoner without a damn good reason.” Len was rather irate at this point, but couldn’t help it. This was a federation colony, so what was the big deal? 

She gave a small nod, and Len knew it wasn’t for him. Before he could turn, there were fingers on his neck and darkness in his mind. He woke to a strange sensation, as if someone was tickling his brain. As his thoughts started up again, Len felt a moment of panic before the sensation stopped. Eyes fluttered open and his brain determined he was safe enough to take a moment to adjust. He was in a bedroom worked over in the same color as the captain’s shirts. 

“Spo, I mean, what’s your name?” Len sat up and found his host holding out a glass of water. 

“S’ellak, but as we are unobserved, Spock will do. Forgive me the familiarity of the mindlink. It was superficial, as I attempted to ease some of the discomfort that can result from a nerve pinch.” 

“You thought making my brain itch was better than giving me an aspirin?” Len knew his Spock would have gotten physically stiff and verbally defensive at this comment. S’ellak managed to keep his Vulcan mask in place, but still give the impression that he was highly amused by something. Len didn’t like being that something. “Don’t be mocking me, thinking you know so much.” 

“It was presumptuous of me, initiating the meld. I can only offer my past experiences as an explanation.” 

“You used your mental ninjitsu on me before?” 

“Only once without direct vocal approval, and later you admitted that was a special circumstance.” 

“Can I know what that circumstance was, so I might avoid it in the future?” 

“No.” 

“Why did security attack me for crashing your party?” 

“The bonded individuals surrounding the house are supposed to keep the unbounded males from leaving and endangering the public. A few others are inside, to protect the ruling council. T’Ken was overcautious about this meeting being recorded and shown to off worlders.” 

“This is a speed date party?” 

“I do not entirely understand that reference, but I believe it is not. My suggestion to the ruling council is being implemented, as no other solution was presented within the deadline.” 

“And, your wonderful solution was?” 

“I believe you would refer to it as a ‘May to December’ romance. The widowers of Vulcan will be matched with members of the younger generation. This will allow them to get through the first few Pon Farrs, which are more intense, with the supervision of those who have survived.” 

“What’s wrong with that? Why did it take them so long to decide on that?” 

“Mating the young men with each other would ensure a longer life together, and efficiency is very logical. Historically, mating two who burn at the same time seems to lock them in a cycle of burning. They will both die before the urge to mate leaves them.” Spock’s calm words brought a surprised look to Len’ face, as he considered this further evidence of his theory. “Many of the widowers still grieve for their spouses, or have no desire to experience another burning, even as the receiving partner.” 

“No crap about non-reproductive relationship being illogical?” 

“There is that, which is part of why I was drafted into this.” 

“You’ve got to explain that, Spock.” 

“This morning, I gave a lecture on emotional completion and physical compatibility to all the individuals here.” 

“If they don’t know who you are, or the obsession Jim has for your narrow ass, why did they ask you?” 

“The best lie is so close to the truth that even the lair cannot remember the difference.” A human shrug and Spock continued. “I told them I did not wish to be included in the genetic database or have offspring with anyone other than my bondmate. Beside the fact of his death, we also lacked the ability because we were both males. It was a reason they could accept, as analysis of my genetic code would raise questions, even with the ripples.” 

“Ripples?” 

“The alteration of the time stream did not start with the murder of George Kirk. There were ripples, like a stone thrown in a pond, making tiny alterations in all directions. My Jim had eyes of molten gold, but I still knew him when his blue eyes stared at me from under that hood.” 

“He’s such a lucky son of a…” The sound of the door pulled Len from his moment, and he hoped he hadn’t sound too pathetic when he spoke. 

“S’ellak, Stonn has awakened.” 

“I shall be there momentarily, Stev.” Spock stood, and the door closed behind Stev. Len stood too, not wanting to be left behind. “Forgive me, Leonard. I have an obligation to attend to and do not know when I shall return. I told T’ken to give back your equipment and return you to the ship.” 

“What are you doing to Stonn?” His tone might have been accusatory, because Spock turned away from the door to shoot him an eyebrow. 

“In order to cure him of his madness, someone with experience with Pon Farr must bond with Stonn.” Len felt the color drain out of his face, knowing who they had chosen for Stonn. 

“But he bullied you!” 

“I must help where I can, and no one in this universe wishes to claim me. Kaiidth, Leonard.” Spock turned away and exited the room. 

Len stood there, but his anger wasn’t at this Spock, but for him. In a moment of clarity he understood several things, more than he did a few minutes ago. Ever since he saw that first love-struck look Jim had tossed at Spock, Len had been burning with jealousy. His marriage had been full of intensity and passion, producing planet shattering fights, and his darling daughter. Jim and Spock would never have biological children, but they would have each other, forever and ever amen. It wasn’t fair. 

Nobody would ever come from another timeline just for him, even though he was worth it. Everyone was worth that kind of love. And S’ellack was worth somebody coming to his rescue too, even though he didn’t believe it. S’ellack though his life had ended with his Jim, and now marked time until they were together again. 

Unsure of what he planned to do, Len leaped for the door. Nobody had locked it, so the security wasn’t as good as they thought they were. Vulcans everywhere, but they seemed to be focused on something in the yard. Heading outside, a wave of midday heat reminded Len of Georgia in August and he pushed through it. S’ellack was walking calmly toward Stonn, who sat in a chair with his hands and feet chained together. 

“S’ellack, wait!” Now all the Vulcans were focused on Len, with varying degrees of disapproval. Len instinctively played his humanity up, hoping it would keep the Vulcans from interfering until it was too late. “Now wait just a doggone minute, here! I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you can’t flirt with me like that and then go marry another guy!” 

“Flirt?” S’ellack was surprised, but hid it well. 

“Yes, flirt! Talking to me like that, being all intrigued my emotional anomalies.” Len couldn’t remember if either Spock had ever said anything like that, but is sounded right. “Touching me, when I know you’re a touch telepath and don’t do things like that with just anybody. And do I even need to get started on the thing’s you’ve done with my brain?” 

The crowd turned as one to look at S’ellack as if he was about to demonstrate such things. S’ellack looked as if he was onto the game, but unsure if he should play along or not. 

“Leonard, I meant only to ease your pain, not lead you on.” S’ellack touched on the game, so Len could use it to preserve his dignity, and then reiterated his reasons. “This is something I must do, for the good of my people.” 

“Your people will just have to do without you for a few hours, while we settle this!” 

“Stonn is awake now and we must act before he is lost to us.” 

“I came here to claim what you promised me over all those vid-calls, and you say your people have a claim. So what’s your logical solution to this dilemma, huh?” 

“S’ellack, Leonard, there is only one solution.” A Vulcan Len didn’t recognize stepped forward, gazing at them regally from his robes. “I have no preference in partner, so I will take Stonn. S’ellack may take another partner, if Leonard releases him to do so. Though you should have mentioned this liaison when we gauged your interest.” 

“Forgive me, Tuvor, I did not appreciate the seriousness of what Leonard felt.” Spock bowed to the man and turned to Len with a Vulcan almost-frown. “We should continue this discussion in private, so that the ceremonies may begin.” 

“Tuvor, I protest.” 

Len turned a snarl on the man who was interrupting now. Tall and solid, he was built along the same lines as Stonn, but old enough to be Stonn’s father, which he probably was. 

“Humans exaggerate and lie easily enough, and this one accused Stonn of many things.” Len felt his backbone stiffen at that comment. Lying was kind of pointless when an entire colony knew what Stonn had attempted to do. “Nor do I know S’ellack from the time before, who was so unaware of the human’s feelings.” 

Tuvor gave Stonn’s relative a nod and turned to look at Len. “Do you have proof of your claim on S’ellack?” 

“Proof?” Len sounded annoyed at the question, but he was desperate to think of something they’d accept. Nothing worse than getting called out on a lie when you were actually lying for a good cause. Awareness of Vulcan hearing was the only thing that kept Len from muttering out loud. In for a penny, in for a pound was the old Earth saying he was thinking of, though he wasn’t sure what a penny was or what it had to do with pounds. Old Earth humans were nuts, and so was he. Two steps closed the distance between Len and S’ellack, so Len could pull them together for a kiss. 

S’ellack only took a second to get into the idea, kissing back. Len’s tongue got into the action, which let Spock’s do some exploring of its own. The tip of Spock’s tongue trailed along the upper left of the soft pallet, an action that tickled Len’s mouth and made his knees wobble. It did that every time somebody touched that spot, which nobody had done it close to eight years. Len broke away panting, wondering how Spock knew about that. Somewhere, a voice was talking about that being adequate proof of a complicating emotional entanglement. Then S’ellack led him back to the bedroom done in command gold and gave him another glass of water. S’ellack had some water as well, and waited for Len to recover. 

“How did you know how I like to be kissed?” 

“Jim can be very persuasive.” 

“Good God!” Len exclaimed and flushed red enough to be shot as a member of security. He did not want to think about Jim talking any version of him into, um, whatever Jim had thought of. 

“He referred to you as a serial monogamist, but always knew the right things to say to convince us both to experience new things.” 

“One being at a time, that’s my motto!” Another swallow of water, and Len continued. “Except, if I wasn’t getting to occasional pity fuck from you and Jim, I wasn’t getting any at all, was I?” 

“You had your admirers, as well as your own reasons for staying on the Enterprise. And Jim would never do anything of that nature against your will.” 

“Forget it!” A heavy breath, as Len pushed away the too much information he’d just had dumped in his head. Went back to his reason for being here, something scientific to distract the scientist in Spock. S’ellack. What the fuck ever! “Tell me about your first Pon Farr. Any major problems just before?” 

“As a member of the Enterprise crew, I’m sure you will understand when I ask you to be more specific.” 

“Good point. Any major emotional crisis just before, or near death experiences.” Len watched Spock consider and was surprised at the quick response. 

“Edith Keeler.” 

“Ship or woman?” Len felt it was a reasonable question, as a majority of ships were historically named after women. 

“Woman, human. Someone Jim loved but could not be with. I watched their romance progress, knowing it was fated to end, yet still grew jealous of each touch.” 

“Ha!” Len let out a triumphant noise, which got a very Vulcan look from S’ellack. With a shrug, Len explained his emotional catalyst for the Pon Farr theory to Spock. When he was finished, Spock stared at him and Len’ couldn’t interpret the look. Spock either wanted to congratulate him on being a genius, or give him a noogie and call him adorable. 

“Despite what I have said before, and will probably say in the future, you are unparalleled in your field. Your hypothesis astounds me, and deserves extensive research.” 

“So all the young Vulcan men, with little real world experience, experienced true emotion for the first time when the planet was destroyed. Their bodies responded to the experience, unbalancing a chemical here and there, until Pon Farr kicks in.” S’ellack nodded, processing Len’s words in his own way. “So here’s what I think about Spock, or you. Whatever. Being half human, you have more experience with emotions, so it takes something even more associated with reproduction to make you burn. If Jim and Spock are doing what I think they are right now, just after Jim’s next near death or major crush, Spock will spike a fever.” 

“And refuse even his most favorite foods. You are an exceptional individual, Leonard.” 

S’ellack spoke in a honey rich voice, and Len got an idea of what it would be like to curl up to that voice at night. He swallowed, and pushed that idea into the same dark corner of his mind where he’d put the images of doing the same thing to Jim. Not even sex, just holding each other against the darkness. 

“Right, well, now tell me how long I should stay and visit with you. Is there anybody out there you want to bond with?” 

“While I am sure they are all worthy and interesting individuals, I have not had the opportunity to get to know any of them. You rescued me from Stonn, and for that I thank you, but I can ask no more of you.” 

“You could have spent the rest of your life tormenting Stonn the way he did you, irritating him with your humanity. But you decided against it, chose to bond to him as a mentor.” 

“I did consider it, but I find such games no longer interest me.” Spock shrugged. 

“Games, huh? I never learned chess, but I could wipe the floor with you at checkers.” 

“I doubt that, as you are the one who taught me to play.” 

Len gaped at S’ellack, who stood and walked to the small table in the corner of the room. Len had seen the chess board there, all the pieces packed away, which was what made him think about chess. From inside the thick board, S’ellack pulled a bag of red and black disks. Laughing, Len went to sit across the table from him. If the Vulcans needed S’ellack, he’d be here. If not, he’d be getting on with his life, much as Len intended to do on the Enterprise. 

**J <3S **

Jim woke with a grin on his face. It was so natural to wake up with Spock wrapped around him that his first thoughts were wondering why he’d gone to sleep instead of sexing Spock up again. Satiation, endorphins, and exhaustion were lousy excuses when they hadn’t even gotten to penetration yet. At that exciting idea, Jimmy the Magnificent twitched, and Jim encouraged it with delicious thoughts. 

“Jimmy the Magnificent? To whom does the name refer, Jim?” 

“Hey, it’s not like I said that out loud!” 

“Forgive me, but as a touch telepath I felt your thoughts as I woke, before my shields were fully activated.” 

“It’s ok, I’m sure the name will come up in conversation eventually. I know a lot of guys name their junk little Bob or Pocket Peter. But my junk is much more skilled and important than that, and defiantly not little. What do you call yours?” 

“I do not name junk, I recycle it.” Spock was careful to not sound too puzzled, and Jim knew he was fully awake and shielded now. Jim carefully sent his right hand on a scouting mission, to better emphasis what he was about to say. 

“Not junk, Spock, this.” Here Jim squeezed lightly, stimulating blood flow. “What do you call your male anatomy?” 

“It is illogical to name a body part. Even one such as the penis, which at times acts in a manner one might not wish.” 

“Are you saying you get erections at inappropriate times? Tell me when, where, and why.” 

“What is the logic in such a discussion?” 

The logic involved a very interested Jimmy the Magnificent, but Jim doubted Spock would buy that. “It will help me decide on a proper name for your junk, so it doesn’t get a complex from me calling it junk.” 

“My penis,” Spock began, but Jim interrupted him. 

“Say cock.” Oddly enough, if you started licking said anatomy when making this request, most men would acquiesce. 

“My cock is incapable of developing a human emotional reaction.” Spock said, but Jimmy the Magnificent gave a decidedly happy reaction at hearing Spock say cock. 

“Tell me the last time you got stiff inappropriately. Or I’ll stop what I’m doing.” This last was added in as threatening a growl as Jim could manage, though it was a lie. He couldn’t have stopped licking Spock’s cock for less than a ship wide emergency. 

“On the bridge. Sometimes, when you sit in a certain way, I fantasize you might be looking at my reflection. When you step up beside me to look at a display, your breath caresses my cheek and I think of you panting underneath me. Every time you touch my hand or neck, seducing me with an unguarded mind!” Jim did stop, pulling his mouth off of Spock to look up at him. It ended Spock’s babbling, but a piece had fallen in place for Jim. 

“The telepathy thing. You said a Vulcan had to have the mental touch or connection to fix his needs. Do you need my mind?” 

“No!” Before, Spock had been excited by the wants of his body, but now his eyes widened and he tried to pull away. Jim considered the reaction and wondered if Spock was panicking. “Jim, at this time, this is sufficient.” 

Jimmy the Magnificent really was special, because he wilted, allowing blood to flow back into Jim’s brain. Now he got an image of Spock, held down in a cave as Stonn invaded his mind. Jim sat up, careful to remove his entire body from Spock’s, even as Jimmy the Magnificent returned all blood to Jim’s body. 

“Spock! I’m so sorry, I didn’t think! I don’t understand all this mental stuff you do, I don’t know what Stonn did to you. You should see a healer before we do anything else.” 

Spock sat up, covering himself with the tangled blanket. “I am well, McCoy healed my injuries.” 

“The physical ones, yes. But he couldn’t do anything about your Vulcan Voodoo, could he?” 

Spock swallowed, as if a heavy lump had settled in his throat. “I am dealing with that. Do you wish to terminate this aspect of our relationship because of this difficulty?” 

“Of course not! I need you too much to abandon you because of some asshole. But, I have to do what I can to make you better. Let me help?” 

“Jim, humans are marvelous projectors of emotions, but have a very limited ability to receive. I can block out your emotions, and you cannot initiate contact without a link joining us. As such, I am safer around you until I heal from this incident. At that time, I will speak with you about the mind touch of the Vulcans.” 

“No.” Spock hadn’t asked a question, but Jim answered it anyway. ”I trust you more than anyone or anything in the universe, but I need more than your word that you’re ok. I need to know that you’re not just here to keep other people’s emotions at bay, especially your own.” 

“What would you have me do?” Spock was as unsure as Jim, and they both took a moment to consider the answer. Jim found an answer first, but doubted Spock would like it. 

“McCoy. He has a psyche degree as well as medical, or we’d have to have a ship’s councilor. Talk with him, use me as your psychic ability void, and we’ll get through this, together.” 

Spock considered for a long moment, and Jim began to wonder if he’d pushed too hard. “If I do as you ask, may we continue with the sexual aspects of our relationship?” 

“Oh yes, physical therapy is a strong component of any recovery.” Jim grinned, and Spock pulled the blanket off his body. On his way to suck Spock back into hardness, Jim paused to dig a small bottle out of the bedside table. It was unlabeled, as Bones made it for him from components Jim wasn’t allergic to. 

“What does the bottle contain?” 

“You’ll find out in a minute.” 

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him, which pulled Jimmy the Magnificent from his slumber. Jim lost his grin as he found Spock’s poor, unnamed cock. He made a mental note to tell Bones to make the lube in bulk from now on, just before Jim was lost in the joy that was Spock. His Spock, finally! And it would take a lot more than Stonn to separate them, that was for double-damn sure! 

**J <3S **


End file.
